


teach me to be more adaptive

by j quadrifrons (Jenavira)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, coffee shop (not an au), just an avatar and a goth being friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenavira/pseuds/j%20quadrifrons
Summary: So a goth walks into a coffee shop... (Agnes Montague and Gerry Keay, circa 2004, have a coffee together.)





	teach me to be more adaptive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerisiers_roses_pommiers_blancs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerisiers_roses_pommiers_blancs/gifts).



There's a goth in the coffee shop.

He isn't a regular; Agnes knows all the regulars here. In fact, he doesn't look like he knows the area at all; he'd squinted at the sign on the door for a good two minutes before coming inside. He orders a coffee -- just like that, a coffee, and he gets snippy with the barista when she has to keep asking him questions -- and then stands around with it in the middle of the floor, looking lost.

It is busy today, there aren't many seats open, and he must really need that coffee. Agnes catches his eye and waves him over. He narrows his eyes at her, then sighs like the end of the world. He doesn't spill a drop when he plops down into the chair across from her, although his coffee does not have room for milk. He looks her straight in the eyes as he takes a sip.

"So," he says, "you're one of the Lightless Flame fanatics."

Agnes cocks her head and hums. The eyes tattooed on his knuckles say Beholding, but he doesn't feel like a Watcher. Not that Agnes has ever met one to know, really, but she doesn't feel Watched. Just pleasantly observed, as he looks at her skeptically while he tries to drink coffee that's still too hot for vulnerable human tissue. "Not exactly," she admits.

His black-rimmed eyes dart between her face and the steaming cup she holds between her hands, and he goes a little pale. "Oh. You're -" Then he sets his jaw and meets her eyes. He's still scared, she can tell, but he's determined not to care. Agnes feels a little flare of affection for him.

"I'm Agnes," she says, as friendly as she knows how. She doesn't offer her hand to shake.

The goth blinks at her. "Gerard," he says reflexively. "You're...not what I expected."

"Really?" It isn't often that anyone expects anything of her at all. Her family knows her, after all, and hardly anyone else even knows she exists. She reconsiders Gerard's possible affiliation with the Beholding. "Is that good?"

Gerard blinks again. "I don't know." He tests his coffee again, finds it an acceptable temperature, and downs it in two long swallows. He makes a face. "Horrible stuff."

Agnes laughs. "Why do you drink it if you don't like it?"

The look he gives her is vaguely horrified, and she wonders what she's done wrong. She's not always very good with ordinary people, although Gerard hardly qualifies as ordinary. But he just shakes his head and smiles wryly. It changes his face, makes him look soft and very young. He's probably not that much younger than her, she realizes suddenly, except she's been twenty-six for two decades and he's probably only been alive half that long.

"Long night," he says, then looks sadly at the clock. It's two p.m. Agnes laughs again, hiding it behind her hand this time, but he smirks back at her and leans back in his chair. He stretches out his long legs, spreading them around the table, and drapes an arm over the back of the chair in a way he probably thinks is attractive. (He's not wrong.) "I've been looking for a book," he says deliberately, like it means something.

Agnes twists her coffee cup in her hands and shrugs one shoulder. She hates it when people talk to her like she knows what's going on, like she's in as deep with all the politics and infighting of the powers as they are. It's never interested her. She has her role to play and that's that. "I don't read much," she says, trying to make it light.

"Didn't think so," Gerard says, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. He doesn't seem disappointed at least. "Not your kind of thing, anyway." Something out the window catches his eye, and his head jerks up. Agnes follows his gaze, and sure enough, there's Jude coming across the street with fire in her eyes.

"You might -" Agnes says, at the same time Gerard says, "Better get going." He stands up all at once, the sprawl of his long limbs tightening into the same nervousness she'd noticed when he came in, but at least he looks a little more awake now. He pauses, empty paper cup in hand. "It was nice meeting you, Agnes," he says.

She smiles up at him, a more genuine smile than she remembers having in a long time. "You too, Gerard," she says, all politeness.

It's only a little smile, twitching at the corner of his mouth, but it's enough to warm Agnes through. "It's Gerry," he says, and then he's out the door, bouncing the paper cup off the rim of the garbage can and heading down the street, his long black coattails trailing behind him.

Jude sits down with a huff. "Who was that?" she asks. "You know it's a risk talking to strangers." She glares around the coffee shop as if someone else might dare approach, as if there's a plague of strangers waiting to come and talk to Agnes.

Agnes shrugs, and gives Jude her best friendly smile. It feels a little strained, after the one she gave Gerry, but Jude doesn't need to know that. "Nobody," she says. "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell about TMA with me, I have too many feelings  
> [@j_quadrifrons](https://twitter.com/j_quadrifrons), [backofthebookshelf](https://backofthebookshelf.tumblr.com)


End file.
